Rest in Never, Bunk Bed

My berth now feels a little more Sheba, and a little less five year old. Although I have not slept on the floor like this, bedless, since I was five years old. Hmm.

My wardrobe does not have a Narnia, nor does it want one. It is perfectly content to be the proud owner of All The Crap I Own Land. Very much loving this big ol' cupboard right now.
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Today I killed that friggin bunk bed. Lefty loosy, every bolt gone. No more shing shing metal every time I move. No more claustrophobic lame light room. SPACE, and COMFORT, and TIDY.

I spy with my little eye something that is the way I should have organized my room from the beginning. I feel like a late-bloomer guru. But, better a late-bloomer guru than never a guru.

Keeping up with the two and a half line structure, all I have left to say is this wise little tid bit: Get your room did. I have a crush on my room. Watch out Objectum Sexuality. Here I come...